#Electric bicycle london

[scotianostra]

Robert William Thomson was born on July 16th 1822 at Stonehaven.

The names of the great Scottish inventors roll easily off the tongue; John Logie Baird, Alexander Graham Bell, Charles Macintosh, and John Dunlop inventor of the pneumatic tyre, or should that read re-inventor of the pneumatic tyre?

Indeed it should read re-inventor; the pneumatic tyre was in fact patented by one of Scotland’s most prolific, but now largely forgotten, inventors, Robert William Thomson on 10 December 1845, some 43 years before John Dunlop’s re-invention. Thomson’s “Aerial Wheels” were subsequently demonstrated in Regents Park London in 1847 and proved to all present that they could both reduce noise and improve passenger comfort.

Robert was born in Stonehaven, the was the son of a local woollen mill owner and was the eleventh of twelve children. Originally destined for the ministry, he apparently had great difficulty coming to terms with Latin,so refused his family’s wishes.

Instead, at age 14, Thomson was shipped to an uncle in the United States, where he served an apprenticeship with a merchant. Upon his return to Scotland, Thomson immersed himself in science, learning all he could about chemistry, electricity and astronomy, and soon began improving the design of mechanical devices in the family’s household. After serving an engineering apprenticeship, Thomson found work as a civil engineer and soon after designed a method of detonating explosive charges via electricity, this saved thousands of lives in the coal mining industry alone.

On December 10, 1845, at the age of 23, Thomson was granted a British patent for the very first pneumatic tyre, a device he called the “Aerial Wheel.” Intended for use on carriages (because bicycles had not yet been popularized), the Aerial Wheel used a rubberized fabric tube filled with pressurized air and encased in a thick leather outer skin. This leather “tire” was bolted to the rim, and the tread section was then stitched to the tyre’s sidewalls. By period accounts, Aerial Wheels yielded a much improved ride compared to conventional solid wheels, and even proved durable enough to accumulate more than 1,200 miles before wearing out. The following year Thomson applied for and received a French patent for his pneumatic tyre, and in 1847 he was granted a U.S. patent for his design.

Though revolutionary, Thomson’s Aerial Wheels were never commercially successful. The cost of the rubber needed for construction of the wheel’s pneumatic bladder priced the product beyond the means of most, and the improvement in ride quality failed to justify the expense in the eyes of the public.

It wasn’t until 1888 that another Scottish inventor, veterinarian John Boyd Dunlop, improved on Thomson’s design to create a pneumatic tire for bicycles, as a means of preventing the headaches suffered by his son when riding his bicycle on bumpy roads. In 1888, Dunlop was given his own patent for the improved pneumatic tyre, but two years later, this was rescinded due to its conflict with Thomson’s Aerial Wheel. Undeterred, Dunlop continued his work on the pneumatic tyre, and by 1890 was mass-producing tyres for bicycles at a factory in Belfast.

[mariacallous]

On Wednesday, New York governor Kathy Hochul shocked the state and the country when she announced she would indefinitely shelve New York City’s long-in-development congestion pricing scheme. The policy, in the works since 2007 and set to begin in just three weeks, was designed to relieve car traffic, curb road deaths, and send a billion dollars in annual funding to the city’s transit system by charging drivers up to $15 a day to enter the busiest parts of Manhattan, with rates highest at “peak hours.” (Truck drivers and some bus drivers could have paid more than $36 daily.) At heart, the idea is straightforward, if controversial: Make people pay for the roads they use.

But congestion pricing was also set to become one of the most ambitious American climate projects, maybe ever. It was meant to coax people out of their gas-guzzling vehicles, which are alone responsible for some 22 percent of US greenhouse gas emissions, and onto subways, buses, bicycles, and their feet. Policymakers, researchers, and environment nerds the world over have concluded that, even if the transition to electric vehicles were to happen at lightning speed, avoiding the worst of climate change is going to require fewer cars overall.

Now, the movement has seen a serious setback, in a country where decades of car-centric planning decisions mean many can only imagine getting around in one very specific way. Just a few years ago, cities from Los Angeles to San Francisco to Chicago began to study what pricing roads might look like. “Cities were watching to see what would happen in New York,” says Sarah Kaufman, who directs the NYU Rudin Center for Transportation. “Now they can call it a ‘failure’ because it didn't go through.”

On Wednesday, Hochul said her about-face had to do with concerns about the city’s post-pandemic recovery. The congestion pricing plan faced lawsuits from New Jersey, where commuters argue they would face unfair financial burdens. Cameras and gantries, acquired and positioned to charge drivers while entering the zone, have already been installed in Manhattan, to the tune of some $500 million.

Kaufman, who says she was “flabbergasted” by Governor Hochul’s sudden announcement, says she is not sure where the policy goes from here. “If we can’t make courageous, and potentially less popular, moves in a city that has transit readily accessible, then I’m wondering where this can happen,” she says.

Other global cities have seen success with congestion schemes. London’s program, implemented in 2003, is still controversial among residents, but the government reports it has cut traffic in the targeted zone by a third. One 2020 study suggests the program has reduced pollutants, though exemptions for diesel buses have blunted its emissions effects. Stockholm’s program, launched in 2006, upped the city’s transit ridership, reduced the number of total miles locals traveled by car, and decreased emissions between 10 and 14 percent.

But in New York, the future of the program is unclear, and local politicians are currently scrambling to figure out how to cover the transit budget hole that would result from a last-minute nixing of the fee scheme. The city’s transit system is huge and sprawling: Five million people ride the Metropolitan Transportation Authority’s buses and subways, almost double the number that fly every day in the US.

In New York, drivers entering the zone below Manhattan’s 60th Street would have been charged peak pricing of $15, but would have only faced the charge once a day. They would have paid $3.75 for off-peak hours. Taxi and ride-hail trips in the zone would have seen extra fees. After years of controversy and public debate, the state had carved out some congestion charge exemptions: some vehicles carrying people with disabilities would not have been charged, lower-income residents of the zone would have received a tax credit for their tolls; and low-income drivers would have been eligible for a 50 percent discount.

[zemkzone]

I don't normally vent, but... TLDR: I was mugged in a city, a country, where I am a foreigner and the supposed friends who were helping me told another friend I was acting "entitled" to their help. It was heavily implied I had to APOLOGIZE to them. AITA or not AITA? I now have much bigger trust issues than I had last week.

Long version:

I've been living in the UK for almost 2 years, and I went down to London on Friday for a break from a stressful work-week. The first night went well, dinner and a show, and I fell asleep at a decent enough time to wake up early on Saturday for 9:30AM yoga with, for lack of a better term, friends of a friend. It was a relatively nice morning, so I decided to take one of the buses instead of schlepping my way down to the Tube (which I still call the subway most days coz, can you blame the proverbial Yankee visiting King Charles' Court?). I got off the bus in the City, what they call the business area in London as a whole, I have been made to understand. Google Maps told me it was an easy walk from the bus stop to the hotel where the yoga class was, but there were several alley/side road closures where the app wanted me to go. I was still on a nice, wide sidewalk, with few cars on the street and few people around me too. I paused at what felt like a safe intersection on that wide sidewalk, right by a modern glass building with CCTV hanging off it and CCTVs on the crosswalk traffic lights a few meters away. I was as far from the roadside as possible, and out of precautionary habit, I had my back turned to the road a little to protect the phone I had out in my hand. I was texting those sort-of friends that I was a few minutes out, and trying to get Google Maps to reroute me.

Suddenly, a black glove appeared in front of my face and my phone was snatched away by what looked like a man in an electric blue puffer hoodie, riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. I tried to chase him, but between the coffee I had to let go of and the duffle bag on my shoulder, it was hopeless. He disappeared around the corner I had been considering walking along myself, and I was left to ask for help from the four passersby at the crosswalk. Two of them happened to be a father and daughter (Brits, but also just visitors in London). The father wrote down my exact location and the time so I could report it to the police. When I said I had friends at a nearby hotel, he and his daughter helped me find my way to it. They didn't have to walk me in, but they did. "We'll wait here," he said at the top of an escalator, "and wait for you to give us a thumbs up if the receptionist has located your friends". The receptionist did, I signaled the two perfect strangers that all was well, and we waved goodbye as they headed off to continue their day.

What followed should have been an exercise in practicality. The boyfriend of one of those sort-of friends (let's call him M) and a hotel staffer helped me contact the police and cancel my debit card (which had been in my snatched cellphone's case). Two officers came to the hotel so I could give them my statement, etc. All the while, M sat with me, updating his girlfriend and the others who still continued on with their yoga session. The police asked me to take them to the spot where the crime occurred. M was still with me, and as we walked out of the hotel, his girlfriend (T) and more people than I expected (I'd only though I was meeting T and another friend I'll call W) came out to join us. I hadn't realized that a whole hour had passed since I'd arrived at the hotel. Their yoga session was over.

At that point, I was torn between (1) feeling marginally better because I had company who knew the city and (2) trying to keep it together in the face of everything that losing a smartphone in 2024 implies. After the police took down the added details at the incident site, T and co. asked me if I wanted to still go to brunch. I agreed since I needed to sit, was shaken, and, though I didn't feel it at the time, did need more than half a cup of coffee in my stomach. At the restaurant, I tried to stay in good spirits. Aside from T, M, and W, there were two people in the group I had never met before, and we were joined by yet another person. I managed to shovel down most of an avocado toast and an Irish coffee (I effing needed the boost). T and her friends had moved on from the usual "sorry that happened to you" and were playing catch up while I asked M where I could find my phone carrier and a place I could get a new phone. I'd come to the UK with the phone that had been snatched, and had only gotten a SIM-only plan with the carrier. I thought the practical thing, since I don't know how many more months/years I'd be in the UK, would be to buy a new phone, then have my carrier block the stolen phone's SIM and issue me a new one. M and I Google Mapped my options, added in my own hotel location so I could grab my passport on the way. I admitted that, considering everything, I (1) needed help getting navigating to those places from where we were and that (2) I didn't feel good enough to be alone just yet. We paid (I still thankfully have working credit cards) for our food and finally left the restaurant.

This is where, to my mind, the uncomfortable part started. Two of the extra 3 people (remember, I was only supposed to have been with T, W, and M, but they had a total of 3 other friends there too), and somehow what should have been a quick 20-30 minutes to get my passport from my hotel and then drop me off on the street with the phone and carrier store became 6 nerve-wracking hours with a too-large group. I said nothing when they started doing "for the gram" picture stops along the way. M went up to my hotel room with me when I got my passport. He took a photo of some passwords on my laptop that I might need when the phone or carrier store staff helped me with my phone. (In hindsight, we should have used pen and paper.) Then our group of 5 all went in what I assume was the direction of the two stores. W was navigating, and at that point, the streets were so crowded and I was getting very tense that I just trusted she knew what she was doing. In my mind, I kept replaying the mugging over and over, what I could have done differently, etc, etc. (I know what happened wasn't my fault, but at the time, I couldn't help it) and listing what I'd have to do first when I got the replacement phone and SIM. I didn't know T and co. well enough to tell them I was internally seeing red and trying not to spiral. Then, suddenly, we stopped walking... at a bubble tea place. I'd only vaguely heard what the group had been talking about as we walked along, since it seemed to be more Instagram/YOLO, etc stuff and no one was asking my input anyway. I smiled tightly and declined an offer for them to buy my bubble tea, opting to stand outside the store to work on staying calm. I didn't realize (hadn't been told) they wanted a break or anything, but I couldnt complain since I was literally dependent on them until I could get a new phone. We eventually got to the phone store, the last remaining extra person left, and I had to pay full price for a phone because as a foreigner I couldn't get on the monthly payment plans. T, M, and W, instead of just pointing me to the carrier store three shops down, came in with me and waited while I talked to the staff. At some point, W or T asked if I wanted coffee, and, while I thanked them for still being there, I declined the drink again. I thought they'd go off to a nearby café or something since I had paperwork, etc to fill. They and M never left. By the time I got the new SIM in the phone and the staff had advised me to go back to the store where I'd bought the phone to get help setting it up, M, T, and W were still there. They went back to the phone store with me, and T told me to stop being so anxious and sit down while we waited in the queue for assistance.

By then, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The tech assistant helped as much as he could, since I was basically setting up my phone from scratch, but said I could do the rest with my tablet back at my hotel... or come back to the store with it before closing time so he could walk me through that part. T gave me a card with some of the friend-group's phone numbers, and she, M, and W still walked me to my hotel (I'm pretty sure it was unpromted, but my head was so foggy at that point from all I had done and still had to do). It turned out the hotel was a 10-min walk in a straight line from the phone shop. We got to the entrance to my hotel, I said thanks to them for being there the whole time, and they left. I handled grabbing my tablet and walking right back (in 5 min) to the phone shop to finish setup alone. The day ended with me exhausted, having a semi-functional phone that I'd have to wait to fully fix still when I got to my apartment (in a place I jokingly nickname the Shire) after the weekend, and crying to friends back in the States in a call over a lousy room-service dinner. I told them what happened, including my misgivings over all the YOLO stops, and they calmed me down and helped me a little more with fixing my phone.

I got at most two hours of sleep by the time the sun rose on Sunday morning... and then made myself presentable enough to meet A, the original London friend who had introduced me to T, W, and M where I first arrived in the country. I told him that while I was grateful for his friends' help the previous day, I didn't think I could go through that again. (I didn't exactly want to say "they're good-time people, but I don't know if I'd want the...awkward stops all over the place again if I were ever in another crisis around them.") What A said... upset me. T, M, and W had apparently complained to him that, while they still thought I was a lovely person (ah, Britishisms!) I acted "entitled" to their company the whole afternoon and was scowling too much. They didn't regret canceling plans for me, but I seemed "ungrateful in my human interactions with them". A all but said I had to APOLOGIZE to his friends.

I'm in my early 30s, with a no-nonsense, get-shit-done North American mentality and I'm aware my default expression, especially when I'm too tired, is RBF (resting bitch face, for those too young to know), and I feel terrible if I need to drag anyone at all into my messes. They're energetic and bubbly Brits in their late 20s. But they really could have left me at any point, just given me directions and left, and I would not at all have held it against them. Just like I was grateful and held nothing against that father with the kid who initially helped me after the mugging. Is this an AITA situation? Did I miss anything? Is this a subtle cultural/age/millennial-GenZ divide?

I'm still tired as FUCK, trying to get used to this new phone, and have a LOT of life admin to do suddenly after this whole weekend. If you have any thoughts or comments, whoever and wherever you are, feel free to say something.

[fizzycherrycola]

Malaysia/Singapore, 1921

On a dark, rainy night, Singapore finds himself in desperate need of a warm meal and a bright smile. Luckily, he has someone who cares for him very much.

Originally intended to be part of a Hetalia fan anthology, however I missed the deadline long ago. You can find it at @hwsrazzledazzle . This is my first time writing Malaysia and Singapore, so I hope I've done them justice. Please enjoy! If anyone notices inconsistencies or cultural mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix them right away.

December Rain 

Singapore; 16 December 1921 

“Governor, is there really no other way? We are in peacetime, so surely-”

“Unfortunately, this is the way it must be. Perhaps if relations between London and Tokyo improve, then these restrictions may be lifted. But from what I understand, it is unlikely that either of us will witness such a thing happen in the near future.” 

“...I see.”

“I know this is all rather irregular, but even so, I trust you will follow these new regulations once they come into effect. Won’t you, Singapore?”

“Yes, Governor Guillemard, of course.”

“Good. Very good! I had the sense when we first met that we would get along well. That you were an honourable, hard-working young man – or colony, I should say – and that you would cause no trouble. I’m delighted to see that is still the case.”

—

A torrent of water falls from the heavens in rippling sheets. People dart about, some on bicycle and some on foot. They splash through the wide puddles of the civic district, anxious to be home before the dark night sets in. The lucky ones squeeze onboard the bustling electric tram with their elbows and umbrellas poking through the open windows. Unfortunately, Singapore was not one of those lucky ones today. 

Clasping his cold hands together, Singapore rubs his knuckles. He huddles in the seat of his hired rickshaw, grimacing at his situation. The spats covering his shoes are terribly soggy and the rain has soaked his grey trousers up to the thigh. He leans back in his seat, sheltering beneath the rickshaw’s canopy, hopelessly trying to stay as dry as possible. Normally it wouldn't be an issue, but tonight... Malaya is visiting for dinner. It’s the first date they’ve had in months.  

There is a tightness behind his ribs and Singapore takes a steadying breath. He needs to dispel the stress of the business day and the terrible news he was given.

None of that matters at the moment. Even though his disheartening meeting with the Governor went on for much longer than expected, he should still make it home before Malaya arrives, because that silly oyen is often late himself. And to the rickshaw puller’s credit, they are speeding down the muddy streets. 

Eventually, Singapore’s abode reveals itself wedged amongst a long row of shophouses. The vehicle’s rickety wheels slow to a halt and the rickshaw man glances back expectantly. Quickly, Singapore tosses a few coins his way. Then, he hops out of his seat, over the gate, and dashes through the five-foot way. 

He pushes open the wooden door to his house and pauses, holding his breath. The darkened front hall is quiet and none of the oil lamps appear lit. Thank goodness. Tension floods from his shoulders and he releases a sigh. 

He slips off his shoes and carries them inside, hoping to wipe the leather dry and preserve his valuable Oxfords. His bare feet tap terracotta tiles as he pads through the front office, then the smell of firewood hits him, mingled with the aroma of red chili and garlic. Peeking into the hallway, he sees dim light and steam emanating from the kitchen in the back. 

His hairs stand on end and a second later he’s bursting into the warm room. 

“Why are you here so early?!” Singapore demands. 

Malaya flinches and glances up from the stove. “Oh, you’re here!” A bright smile blooms across his face, putting his crooked fang tooth on full display. “Welcome back!” 

“You’re never early! How did…?”

“Ah? I thought I was late. You said we would meet in the afternoon.”

“No, we said it would be in the evening.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Malaya chuckles. “I thought it was strange when I walked in and nobody was home.” 

“Wait, what are you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making dinner!” 

“But I was going to....” Singapore’s words fail him as he gawks at his kitchen. The mortar is smudged with trace remains of crimson spices and his stove is lit with the smoky haze of burning charcoal. Malaya tosses peppers into the wok and effortlessly works the sizzling heat like he was born for it. Singapore sighs. “Never mind. Let me take over from here.” 

Malaya laughs incredulously. “But I’m almost finished!”  

“It doesn’t matter. This is your first time in my new home! You’re my guest.” 

Malaya quirks an eyebrow and gestures to Singapore with the backend of his chuan. “Singa, you’re dripping wet. You’ll get rainwater in our food.” 

Baulking, Singapore looks himself over. His suit is darkened and heavy, leaking droplets onto the floor. 

Grimacing, he deflates. “...I’m sorry.”  

“Ah? You don’t need to apologise.” 

“No, I should have arrived earlier. I had plans for our dinner together; I wanted it to be special.” 

Smiling wider, Malaya seems to melt on the spot. “Sayang….”

“I can take over after I’ve changed.”

“No. This is my cooking now.”

“But–” 

“It’s fine. You work too hard!” Malaya steps away from the wok and nudges Singapore out of the room. “Quick! Go change out of those clothes before the food is ready.” 

Reluctantly, Singapore trudges upstairs to his bedroom, glancing back at the kitchen as he goes. 

Once upstairs, he takes a moment to tend to his Oxfords, the higher priority, before his own comfort. When he’s satisfied that the leather is dry enough, he peels off his wet business attire, shivering despite the humidity, and then towels his damp skin. Throwing on something clean, he pauses in front of a small mirror to tame his dark hair before returning downstairs.  

The dining area is bathed in warmth and an array of dishes decorate the table. Dinner is set out before him: tomato rice with ayam masak merah, a mix of chicken and dried chilies sambal. The saucy red soup glistens in the lamplight and Singapore’s belly rumbles. Malaya snickers, placing the finishing touches on the table and telling him to dig in. 

With a flush rising to his cheeks, Singapore thanks his companion and relents. He takes a bite of the chicken, and a burst of rich, creamy, spice hits his tongue. It’s so delicious that he sighs, the flavour bringing back memories of other rainy Decembers, long past. When it was just the two of them, huddled beneath a small, thatched roof.

“Abang, it’s so good,” Singapore says. “Thank you.”

“Anytime!” A wide grin graces Malaya’s face as he produces a gorgeous bottle of tapai rice wine and pours both of them a healthy glass. Then he sits as well, going for his tomato rice, and talking unabashedly between massive mouthfuls of food. “You know, I think your last house was better.” 

Singapore pouts. “Don’t say that, lah. I was hoping you would like it here.” 

“Well, ah… it’s not what I was expecting.”

“I was able to get this because my markets have been paying well. Would you prefer it if I returned to a timber attap house? Go back to my old kampong?”

Malaya sheepishly raises his hands in mock surrender. “No! It’s just very… different?”

“It’s closer to the city centre. And it’s modern.”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry.” Malaya leans in and gives Singapore a quick kiss on the cheek – an apology. He leaves behind a few sticky grains of rice, and Singapore rolls his eyes before brushing them off. “You worked very hard for this, so I’ll admit, for a city house, it is really spacious and fancy.”

Singapore swallows a few more bites of food while considering his companion’s sentiment.

Indeed, the new dwelling takes some getting used to. Bought last July, Singapore’s abode stands three stories tall and has an elaborate, ornamental façade. Decorated with colourful tiles and plasterwork, it is more stylish than his previous place. If only the floors were worn in, and the rooms smelled of the forest, perhaps then this mass-produced building would feel more like a home. 

It’s no matter, though. He will adjust. As if reading his mind, Malaya pokes his elbow and gestures to the open courtyard. “Plant a garden in the spring; that will help.”

Singapore glances at the bare space and imagines it filled with kang kong, lemongrass, and chili plants. It warms his heart.

“That would be nice.”

Malaya polishes off his rice and sets the bowl down. “So, you meet with Guillemard today?”

“Ah… that’s right.”

“Mm! I’m meeting with him in a few days, too. What did he say?” 

Singapore ducks, suddenly very interested in the wood grain of his table. “I’ll tell you after dinner.”

“Come on, tell me. Is it good news?”

Weight settles on Singapore’s shoulders and bears down on his neck. “No, it’s bad.”

“Now I have to know!”

Singapore sighs. The locks in the back of his mind slowly release, allowing a bitter slurry of unease and gloom to trickle forth. He’s been holding onto this all day and he was never good at hiding things from his dearest.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Malaya downs a swig of rice wine. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Singapore follows his lead, taking a sip from his own cup and allowing the burn to roll down his throat. He swallows, and means to slam the cup down, but it settles with a skittering series of taps. Is he nervous, or just upset?

“Guillemard said… beginning next week, we cannot have any contact with Taiwan, Korea, or any other kingdoms under Japan’s control.” 

The statement falls wet out of his heart to splatter ruin onto his new, tile floor. Malaya blinks, silent for a while, his eyes going wide.

“No, that can’t be right.” 

“Personal contact lah,” Singapore clarifies. “We can’t send them letters, telegrams, or schedule any visits.”

“Not even letters?”

“None.”

Malaya gapes. “Why would he say that? Did he have a reason?” 

“I couldn’t get all the details.” The morning and afternoon were like a whirlwind. Questions flew around the rooms of the Governor’s estate, from not just himself, but even the groundskeepers who he caught whispering in the halls. “I heard there was a conference,” Singapore continues, “and a treaty was signed. Somehow, this new treaty ended the alliance between England and Japan, but it was more than that. Apparently, there has been tension between them for a long time, maybe years. So, it is possible… perhaps a combination of different things ....” 

“Wait, wait!” Malaya cries, jolting Singapore out of his recollection. “Tahun Baru Cina!”

It takes Singapore a moment to understand. “What about it?”

“Taiwan invited us to celebrate with her. You remember; we were meant to visit her in that city... what are we calling it these days?” 

“Taihoku?” 

“That’s it!” 

“I’m guessing that will be cancelled.” 

Malaya releases a puff of air. “They can’t just cancel the New Year!” He slumps, staring forlornly at his empty rice bowl. He looks like a cat, longing for more food, as though that would be enough to fix all the problems of the world.

“Someone else might host,” Singapore suggests. 

“This is terrible,” Malaya mutters.

Singapore frowns at his wine, cloudy and glistening in the lamplight. He imagines it reflecting a sea of red lanterns as they ripple in the night air, a dream of years past. If he concentrates, he can recall the clamour of jubilant voices, the thrum of drums, and the crackle of firecrackers.

Gathering under one roof to welcome the New Year was a tradition they shared. Who started it and when, Singapore does not know, but every house he visited would be brilliantly decorated in a rainbow of colours, and every table would be packed to the edge with food. Different people would host and attend each year; a variety of familiar faces that came and went. Philippines, Vietnam, Siam, Manchuria, Korea, of course China, and more. Sometimes there were so many of them, there were not enough seats to go around! 

Occasionally, the turnout was smaller due to war, famine, or sickness, but it was always a pity when it happened. It’s still a pity now. Singapore sighs, again. “I’m sorry for ruining the evening with depressing news. This date was meant to be special.” 

Malaya blinks, returning to life, and shushes him. “You know, if you keep stressing out, your hair will turn white.” 

Something in Singapore's face must be betraying his feelings, because Malaya’s smile falls almost as quickly as it appears. He shuffles closer and secures a steady arm around his lover’s shoulders.

“Abang….”

Rain pitter-patters on the courtyard stone. The distant sounds of city life grow quieter as night falls. Is it raining in Taihoku as well? Is there a little girl on the other side of the sea mulling over the same sad news? Poor Taiwan. She’s still just a child; she won’t understand.

A knot has lodged itself in Singapore’s throat. Times like these serve as a potent reminder: it is the spiderwebs of alliances that shape their uncertain destinies. Of course, he is not a revolutionist. Order, harmony, and life are too precious to him. All he must do is keep his head down, work hard, and if he does that, he can get by. But sometimes… sometimes….

Without prompting, Malaya whispers, “I know,” and hugs him, lean muscle cradling Singapore’s thin frame. And Singapore doesn’t realise he is clenching his jaw until Malaya strokes his cheek and it slackens. Heat radiates through his ribs like an antidote. A rattling breath escapes his chest and his eyes fall shut. Their bodies slope together. 

They stay that way for long minutes. The weariness of the day begins to levy its toll on Singapore’s consciousness and his head droops. Safe in his companion’s arms, sleep tempts him. He almost doesn’t hear when Malaya whispers: “When do these rules start?”

“Next week,” Singapore murmurs.

Malaya’s lips press gently to his temple. “Then we will send Taiwan and the others some letters. We will wish them an early Happy New Year, before these awful new rules take effect.”

Shifting, Singapore meets his brilliant golden eyes. Dark umber bangs brush the tips of his eyelashes and a firecracker lights in his heart. His oyen is so handsome. They kiss and Malaya’s inviting mouth tastes faintly of chilies.

“Can I stay with you for more than a few days?” Malaya whispers.

“Of course,” Singapore says. “But is that okay? Won’t you get in trouble with the sultans?”

With a wave of his hand, Malaya dismisses the notion. “I’ll just keep begging my bosses until I manage to annoy them into letting me stay. Besides, my sayang is worth it.” A smile dawns on Singapore’s features and they entwine their fingers. Malaya nuzzles his hair. “And after I go, I'll come back in the spring to help you build your garden. We can plant some red hibiscus together.”

“...That would be nice.”

Suddenly, Malaya squeezes him tight and peppers his face with kisses until he’s laughing. And the spark in his heart becomes a booming firework display, so bright and colourful that it threatens to burst from his soul. 

Eventually, Singapore has to push him away, before things get heated and they make a mess of both their clothes and the dining table. He suspects there are red chili smears decorating his face. Malaya relents only after leaving a suggestive bite to his neck, practically purring with delight.

They gather up the dishes from the table, and as Singapore follows his companion back to the kitchen, he finds he is able to stand straighter. Malaya has a kind of resilience, a living strength that courses along the lines of his shoulders and blooms in the curve of his toothy smile. And Singapore has always found it captivating. Despite their misfortune and the struggle of navigating life, his oyen thrives and endures. How lucky he is to share delicious dinners and squander time with this special person. 

Singapore’s thoughts drift to the feathery bed that beckons them both and suppresses a shiver of excitement. Hurriedly, he plunges a bowl into the water basin and scrubs it clean, eager to indulge in the rest of their evening and the precious days ahead.

As long as he has Malaya, everything will be okay.

End / Fin

~~~

Author’s Notes 

Laurence Guillemard was the British-appointed “Governor of the Straits Settlements” and “High Commissioner for the Federated Malay States” from 1920 – 1927. 

“Abang” and “sayang” are Malay terms of endearment. 

Malaya/Malaysia’s national animal is a tiger, which is why Singapore calls him “oyen,” meaning: orange cat.

The first Singaporean shophouses were built starting in the 1840s, under the original ordinances laid down by Sir Stamford Raffles. Over the years, architecture styles changed but the houses remained popular until the 1960s. They are now considered important heritage pieces and are valued as historic examples of architecture.

An attap house is a traditional dwelling made with attap palms, which provide wattle for the walls and leaves for their thatched roofs. They are often found in kampongs (traditional villages) throughout South East Asia.

The Anglo-Japanese Alliance was a pact between the British and Japanese that was signed in 1902. Both parties benefited in various ways, including defensive strategies, trade, and cultural exchanges. However, over the following decades, the relationship would slowly deteriorate. It was viewed as an obstacle at the Paris Peace Conference following WW1, and then battered further by the 1921 Imperial Conference. It finally dissolved on 13 December 1921, when the Four-Power Treaty was signed in Washington DC.

Lunar New Year! In Malaysia, the holiday’s official name is “Tahun Baru Cina”. 

Taihoku was the name given to Taipei while it was under Japanese rule.

“...your hair will turn white.” It’s my personal headcanon that Singapore got his trademark streak of white hair from overworking himself in the 20th century.

[blaseballteamshowdown]

BLASEBALL 64 TEAM SHOWDOWN!!!

this is a bracket of all of blaseball's NON-MAIN 24 teams!! each set of polls will run for a week starting mondays at 11 AM eastern / 8 AM pacific / 4 PM bst! the first round will be split into two halves and each will be a week long; after that each round will be a week.

NOTE REGARDING BEFORE.SIBR.DEV LINKS: unfortunately before does not have the ability to link to a specific page at a specific time. in lieu of this most before links will be to a specific page with a season and day provided, with as many dates the same as possible to let ur cache do most of the work (as before saves when you last loaded it to). thank you!

CURRENT ROUND: round 3! matchups:

🌟 Alaskan Immortals vs. 🧠 Oregon Psychics 🦀 Baltimore Blue Crabs vs. 🖼️ Canada Artists ☄️ Antarctic Fireballs vs. 💎 Carolina Queens 🐕 Downward Dogs vs. 🐸 London Frogs 🦑 Hall Stars vs. 🍍 Default Team 🦴 Spooky Town Bones vs. 🏅 Vault Legends 🕹️ Real Game Band vs. 💫 Rising Stars ❓ Null Team vs. 🥜 THE SHELLED ONE’S PODS

ROUND 1, PART 1

🌟 Alaskan Immortals vs. 🦙 La Paz Llamas 🦜 São Paulo Parrots vs. 🦞 Louisville Lobsters 🚚 Minneapolis Truckers vs. 🐬 Wyoming Dolphins 🧠 Oregon Psychics vs. 🐗 Kola Boar 🦀 Baltimore Blue Crabs (prehistory) vs. 🐘 Phoenix Trunks 🐧 Boulders Bay Birds vs. 🐄 Dallas Cows 🍆 New Hampshire Eggplants vs. 🐋 Mallorca Whales 🖼️ Canada Artists vs. 🦬 Busan Bison ☄️ Antarctic Fireballs vs. 🧂 San Diego Saltines 🏗️ Laredo Excavators vs. 🐨 Canberra Drop Bears 💎 Carolina Queens vs. 💔 Oklahoma Heartthrobs 🦔 Green Hill Hedgehogs vs. 🦏 Florence Rhinoceroses 🐕 Downward Dogs vs. ⛓️ Lisbon Lynx 🐾 Oxford Paws vs. 🦦 Portland Otters 🐸 London Frogs vs. 🐿️ Maryland Squirrels 🥜 Ohio Peanuts (short circuits) vs. 🚲 Beijing Bicycles

ROUND 1, PART 2

🦑 Hall Stars vs. 💀 Denmark Hamlets 🕹️ Real Game Band vs. 💧 Americano Water Works ❓ Null Team vs. 🐺 Canis Underdogs 🦴 Spooky Town Bones vs. 🦕 Bedrock Brontos 🏅 Vault Legends vs. 🥛 Milk Proxy Society 🥜 THE SHELLED ONE’S PODS vs. 💡 Light & Sweet Electric Co 💫 Rising Stars vs. 🤝 Cream & Sugar United 🔍 BC Noir vs. 🐮 Club de Calf 🍍 Default Team vs. 🏳 FWXBC 🔮 Society Data Witches vs. 🏆 Atlético Latte 💾 Colorado Clones vs. ⭐️ Auric Allstars 🎨 Pandemonium Artists vs. ⚓️ Heavy FC ⚠️ The Danger Zone vs. ❌ Inter Xpresso 🌃 Macchiato City vs. 👑 Royal PoS ❄️ Cold Brew Crew vs. 👻 Tsushima Ghosts 🤠 Indianapolis Jones vs. 🚰 Venice Sinks

ROUND 2

🌟 Alaskan Immortals vs. 🦜 São Paulo Parrots 🚚 Minneapolis Truckers vs. 🧠 Oregon Psychics 🦀 Baltimore Blue Crabs vs. 🐄 Dallas Cows 🐋 Mallorca Whales vs. 🖼️ Canada Artists ☄️ Antarctic Fireballs vs. 🏗️ Laredo Excavators 💎 Carolina Queens vs. 🦔 Green Hill Hedgehogs 🐕 Downward Dogs vs. 🐾 Oxford Paws 🐸 London Frogs vs. 🥜 Ohio Peanuts 🦑 Hall Stars vs. 🤠 Indianapolis Jones 🍍 Default Team vs. 🔍 BC Noir 🦴 Spooky Town Bones vs. 🎨 Pandemonium Artists ⚠️ The Danger Zone vs. 🏅 Vault Legends 🕹️ Real Game Band vs. 👻 Tsushima Ghosts 🔮 Society Data Witches vs. 💫 Rising Stars ❓ Null Team vs. 🌃 Macchiato City 💾 Colorado Clones vs. 🥜 THE SHELLED ONE’S PODS

[krisinthefalklands]

It Begins...

"I've applied for a school in the Falklands", Sara tells me. ".... Huh!? Oh? Right... OK", this comes as a bit of a shock to me, we've previously spoken about the possibility of us returning back up north, where the quality of life is better than where we currently are, just outside of 2023's Worst Place To Live, Luton, and where the cost of living is significantly cheaper, but at the same time, I was also somewhat unsurprised, Sara has always had itchy feet (I'm talking about a desire to travel, not a long undiagnosed skin condition) and was ready for a new school to teach at.

We'd previously visited an island with a small population for her to attend an interview weekend, where partners were also invited, and please, do read the next bit in air-quotes, with as much sarcasm as you can muster, "but partners aren't being interviewed, just invited so they can get a feel for the island", sure Jan... and just days before the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown measures were introduced in the UK, we visited the tiny island of Sark in the Channel Islands.

Not only is Sark a tiny island, it also has a tiny population of about 500 people, where people are outnumbered by the sheep, and the coastline is frequented by funny looking black and white birds (just remember this information for later) as puffins can be spotted on the sheer coastal edges of the island in Spring.

During our time on Sark, when Sara wasn't preparing a lesson to give to her potential future class, we went up and down their bustling high street, avoiding the local traffic of tractors, horse and carts and bicycles...there are no cars allowed on Sark (despite how much my friend Victoria keeps suggesting that if you squint, you could mistake a sports car for a small tractor), not that you would need a car given the size of the island! We also had a lovely curry at the seigneur's home with the other candidates, headteacher of the school and his wife, and a few local residents, including the locum GP, who I may have landed in hot water when I was "absolutely not being interviewed" by the island's vicar and his wife.

The current seigneur of Sark is the delightful Christopher Beaumont, the 23rd person to take up the mantle, a former officer in the British Army, but despite his highfalutin sounding status is down to earth, and happy to chat away with visitors to his beautiful gardens, especially about his newly installed solar panels and electric tractor (the first of it's kind on Sark!)

Sadly, it wasn't to be for our dream of a few quiet years on Sark, and we returned to empty streets, loo roll shortages and queues outside supermarkets, as we took our singular government approved walk of the day. Life moved on, just day after day after sodding day. The more things changed, the more things stayed the same.

There were other attempts to move to Sark, the teacher who did get the job decided it wasn't for them and returned to mainland UK. I guess choosing small island life requires a certain kind of hardiness, pig headedness and a desire to be part of a small community who will know everything about you after a certain amount of time. We have those qualities (we hope), but again, the job was offered to another applicant.

So after a couple of attempts of moving to one small island, and it not being successful, I pessimistically assumed it would be the same here, Sara would go for the interview, impress the panel, but there would just be that one sodding person with a smidge more experience, who would get the job and leave us stuck on rainy Brexit island.

The big day came, Sara set off to London for the interview, you see, whilst for Sark they flew us to Guernsey and then put us on the cute little ferry to the small island, the Falklands is a 16 hour flight across the Atlantic, and a bit far to go for an interview, so the interview panel came to the UK, at Falkland House, the Falkland Islands London address, where you can visit to discuss all manner of things, so long as those questions are about the Falkland Islands. Of course, things didn't go smoothly, as her tube decided to stop in the middle of a tunnel between stations, unable to contact the office to say she was delayed as this was a line that did not yet have 4G signal installed throughout, but she did make her interview in the nick of time, and on exit was told she'd hear back within a week.

At this point my pessimism had kicked in. They had clearly given the job to someone else, and we were doomed for another year in the London commuter belt. Another year of eating fish fingers whilst watching Pointless. Another year of breathing in the polluted air from the main road we lived next to. Another year of...

"ring ring¹"... Sara's phone is ringing, it's a +500 number from The Falkland Islands... I listen in...

"Hi, is that Sara?", asks the caller, she confirms, and the voice on the other end replies, "Sorry about the delay in getting back to you, when we arrived we needed to have a week to rest from the exhaustion of flying and to have a think about the candidates we saw. We were really impressed with your"... I could sense the "but", again, I'm a pessimist by nature... "and we'd like to offer you the position of class teacher at the Infant and Junior School starting in September" - for once, my natural glass half empty, cheery outlook on life, was unfounded.

I went to Tesco to get cake to celebrate the news, although the choices were rubbish and I came back with mini Millionaires Shortbread bites rather than actual cake, but now we had to let it sink in that we were going to have a very big journey ahead of us.

What follows is that journey²...

¹it didn't actually go "ring ring", we're millennials and as such our phones are permanently on mute, and just went "vvvvvvb vvvvvvb" but that would have looked like a cat walked across my keyboard if I'd put that.

²It's worth noting up to now, this has mostly been about Sara's journey, but from hereon this will be a shared journey

[fuckyeahvanhalen86-95]

Dweezil Zappa is most well-known for his association with the music of his father, the late electric guitar hero Frank Zappa.

Somewhat less well-known, though, is his association with Eddie Van Halen, who he got to know – at the ripe age of 12 – through his dad. Van Halen took a liking to the young Zappa, and even produced his first ever recording, My Mother Is a Space Cadet.

As if that wasn't cool enough, Van Halen also gifted Zappa one of his guitars, a 1982 Kramer that still occupies pride of place in Zappa's extensive collection.

Recently, Zappa pulled the Kramer out of its case for the first time in "years," and had a go at playing what else Eruption, on it. Luckily for us, he filmed the run-through for social media.

Needless to say, it's clear that the Kramer still has some mojo in it. Of course, Zappa's tapping and immaculate pickwork are pretty darn good, too.

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A post shared by Dweezil Zappa (@dweezilzappa)

"In 1982, Edward Van Halen gave me a Kramer Star guitar," Zappa wrote on Instagram. "I used it to record My Mother Is A Space Cadet, and it was also the guitar I used when I first played onstage with my dad at the London Hammersmith Odeon."

"I pulled it out of the case for the first time in years and tried to play Eruption on it."

Perhaps cooler than the guitar itself (not a low bar to clear, mind you) is the story of how it changed hands.

A 12-year-old Zappa, the story goes, was set to play at a school talent show with his band. They were rehearsing their song of choice – Van Halen's seminal Runnin’ with the Devil – when Eddie Van Halen himself turned up at their rehearsal.

“I’m not only playing one chord wrong – but my guitar’s not staying in tune,” Zappa recalled to Gibson in a 2021 interview.

Seeing the trouble, Van Halen proceeded to drive home and return with a Kramer.

“Originally it was cream-colored with an orange lightning bolt, like Shazam,” Zappa explained. “He brings that guitar back and he puts it on me and he says, ‘You’re playing it wrong.’ And he stands behind me, he counts it off with the kids and he does the picks slides, the whole thing. It was the craziest experience.”

The next day, Zappa went on, “I called him and thanked him and said, ‘Hey, if you want to come grab your guitar…’ And he said, ‘No, you can keep that guitar.’”

“So I kept the guitar, I painted it, this was my homage to the Schwinn bicycle-style painting of Van Halen-esque guitars. I painted it when I was 13.”

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

In 1890, everybody rode horses, used candles to see at night, and communicated through letters.

*sigh*

How fast people forgett

EVERYONE Rode horses

Well, let‘s ignore that most people would use a sort of horse drawn carriage, especially in the city

And also boats, becasue a lot of cities still had open channels …

But:

The first commercially successful steam locomotive was Matthew Murray's rack locomotive Salamanca built for the Middleton Railway in Leeds in 1812.

Also, Bikes had been a thing since at least the 1820s

By 1890 it was a common way of transportation even for women, to teh point where skirts where developed to accomodate for that

Also, people just walked … like a lot … liek a lot a lot

So depending on who you where and where you lived you might get through live in 1890 just fine without ever learning how to ride … or how to groom a horse ...

In 1890 EVERYBODY used candles

NOPE

Gas made its debut in London (…) in 1807.

(…)

By the 1840s, gas began to make a tentative appearance in the urban home.  Gradually it became a middle-class must-have.

(…)

The arrival of electricity in the 1880s caused a stir.

So in the 1890s most people would have used oillamps or gas, and some rich modern housholds would have used electricity.

A candle by this point was more like a flashlight, or for decoration like today

EVERYONE communicated through letters

Yes, but not exclusively …

The electric telegraph quickly became a means of more general communication. The Morse system was officially adopted as the standard for continental European telegraphy in 1851 with a revised code, which later became the basis of International Morse Code.

The 1890s where insanely modern and a lot closer to us today then many people seem to realize

I think the bigger difference was for people born before 1800 and after 1800

Captain Francis Crozier (*1796) was hilariously cranky about steam engines, he prefered sailing ships, although in his defense teh steam engine in question was a rigged former train engine and didn‘treally work all that well …

Captain John Ross was more modern minded and promptly got his steam powered "victory" stuck in the arctic ...

we were the liminal kids. alive before the internet, just long enough we remember when things really were different.

when i work in preschools, the hand signal kids make for phone is a flat palm, their fingers like brackets. i still make the pinky-and-thumb octave stretch when i "pick up" to respond to them.

the symbol to save a file is a floppy disc. the other day while cleaning out my parents' house, i found a collection of over a hundred CDs, my mom's handwriting on each of them. first day of kindergarten. playlist for beach trip '94. i don't have a device that can play any of these anymore - none of my electronics are compatible. there are pieces of my childhood buried under these, and i cannot access them. but they do exist, which feels special.

my siblings and i recently spent hours digitizing our family's photos as a present for my mom's birthday. there's a year where the pictures just. stop. cameras on phones got to be too good. it didn't make sense to keep getting them developed. and there are a quite a few years that are lost to us. when we were younger, mementos were lost to floods. and again, while i was in middle school, google drive wasn't "a thing". somewhere out there, there are lost memories on dead laptops. which is to say - i lost it to the flood twice, kind of.

when i teach undergrad, i always feel kind of slapped-in-the-face. they're over 18, and they don't remember a classroom without laptops. i remember when my school put in the first smartboard, and how it was a huge privilege. i used the word walkman once, and had to explain myself. we are only separated by a decade. it feels like we are separated by so much more than that.

and something about ... being half-in half-out of the world after. it marks you. i don't know why. but "real adults" see us as lost children, even though many of us are old enough to have a mortgage. my little sister grew up with more access to the internet than i did - and she's only got 4 years of difference. i know how to write cursive, and i actually think it's good practice for kids to learn too - it helps their motor development. but i also know they have to be able to touch-type way faster than was ever required from me.

in between, i guess. i still like to hand-write most things, even though typing is way faster and more accessible for me. i still wear a pj shirt from when i was like 18. i don't really understand how to operate my parents' smart tv. the other day when i got seriously injured, i used hey siri to call my brother. but if you asked me - honestly, i prefer calling to texting. a life in anachronisms. in being a little out-of-phase. never quite in synchronicity.

[starseedfxofficial]

The Hidden Power Move in the Euro-Yen Game: EMA Tricks You Need to Know Let's talk about the Exponential Moving Average (EMA) and its role in the Euro-Japanese Yen (EUR/JPY) currency pair—a matchup that feels more like an international game of chess than just a simple currency trade. If you're thinking, "Why would I bother with the EMA?", then stick around—because what you're about to learn could be the difference between looking like a forex newbie and someone who knows where the real opportunities are hiding. And don’t worry, no stuffy lecture here—I promise to keep this as lively as your friend who just discovered day trading and insists on telling you everything. The Not-So-Basic Basics: EMA & Why It's a Big Deal The Exponential Moving Average is like the cooler, more insightful cousin of the Simple Moving Average (SMA). While SMA is just averaging prices over a set period, EMA puts more weight on the most recent data, making it quicker to respond to market shifts—kind of like upgrading from a bicycle to an electric scooter. If you're trying to trade the EUR/JPY, this is crucial because that pair can pivot like it’s auditioning for a role in a K-drama love triangle. EMA keeps you on your toes and ahead of the slower-moving SMAs. The Euro-Yen pair is volatile—and I mean, "volatility" like the feeling you get when you realize you left the house without your phone. Sudden shifts happen, but EMA has your back, reacting fast to price changes. But here's where the magic really kicks in: understanding how to leverage it in unconventional ways. Unseen Tactics: How to Use EMA Like a Pro Double EMA Crossover: Not Just for the Textbooks Alright, I get it, everyone and their grandmother knows about using two moving averages—the classic fast vs. slow EMA crossover—but what they don't tell you is how to juice this strategy. Try using the 8-period EMA in conjunction with the 21-period EMA specifically for EUR/JPY. Why 8 and 21, you ask? These numbers have a sweet spot with Euro-Yen’s frequent erratic movement. When the 8-period EMA crosses above the 21-period EMA, it’s like the stars aligning—a bullish trend signal—especially when you're trading EUR/JPY during European market hours. The secret sauce here is time of day. Many traders overlook timing, but when you combine an EMA crossover with the start of London trading hours, you're more likely to catch a momentum spark that others are missing. And if it doesn't work? Well, it’s like buying those expensive running shoes for your New Year’s fitness resolution—sometimes it's more about timing (and actually running) than the shoes. The Forgotten EMA Combo: Adding the 50-period EMA for Context If you’re trading EUR/JPY without keeping an eye on the 50-period EMA, you’re like that guy at a karaoke night who only knows half the song lyrics. The 50 EMA provides context, giving you an overview of the medium-term trend. Here’s the inside scoop: if the 8 and 21 EMAs cross upward but stay below the 50 EMA, the trend isn’t as solid as you might think. The 50 EMA acts like a reality check—kind of like when you think you nailed your interview, and then remember you called your interviewer "Mom" by accident. No amount of convincing will make that a positive experience. EMA & RSI: The Trend-Confirmation Combo Let’s talk about the underrated mash-up—EMA and Relative Strength Index (RSI). This combo is like pineapple on pizza—you either get it, or you don’t, but once you do, you’re hooked. When you spot an EMA crossover, don’t rush in. Check the RSI first. If RSI is above 50 when the 8 EMA crosses above the 21 EMA, you’ve got confirmation of a bullish trend that’s worth your attention. This approach lets you avoid false signals, which is like not texting your ex when you’re lonely—staying disciplined and following through saves you a lot of unnecessary trouble. Digging Deeper: Emerging Trends in EMA for EUR/JPY EMA Fan Theory: Navigating Market Waves Not to be confused with conspiracy theories, the EMA Fan technique involves plotting multiple EMAs (like the 8, 13, 21, 50, 100, and 200 periods) and using their alignment to gauge the strength of the trend. When these EMAs are neatly spread apart in an upward sloping direction, you’ve got a solid uptrend. Imagine these EMAs as a group of friends walking down the street—if they’re close together, they’re probably getting brunch (sideways market), but if they’re in a neat line moving fast, they’re on a mission to catch the train (strong trend). The EMA fan lets you spot when the market is in harmony or when it’s about to miss the ride. Underground Trend: Combining EMA with Economic Releases EUR/JPY is heavily impacted by economic releases—think of the Bank of Japan announcements, like that scary ex who still makes you a little nervous. Now, here’s an underground trick: plot a 34-period EMA on a 15-minute chart and wait for major economic news (like ECB press releases or Japanese CPI data). The 34 EMA acts as a gravitational pull—prices often pull back to it before blasting off again, making it a great reference for entry after the initial spike. This is the kind of trick that makes you feel like a market magician. You’re not just trading the reaction—you’re positioning yourself to capitalize once everyone else is panicking. Avoiding the Pitfalls: Common Mistakes with EMA Mistake #1: Ignoring Price Action and Market Structure One of the biggest mistakes is blindly following EMAs without considering price action. An EMA can tell you a trend, but it won’t tell you everything. That’s like seeing someone in a fancy suit and assuming they know quantum physics. Always cross-check EMA signals with basic support and resistance zones on your chart. Mistake #2: Chasing Every Crossover You know that friend who chases every trend on TikTok? Well, that’s you if you enter every EMA crossover without considering the broader market context. Sometimes a crossover happens, but the market is in a range-bound condition. If the price isn’t breaking past the key resistance, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment—like trying to eat soup with a fork. Game-Changing Elite Tactics Multi-Timeframe EMA Analysis Advanced traders know to cross-reference EMAs across multiple timeframes. For EUR/JPY, checking the 4-hour chart and daily chart for EMA alignment with your 1-hour trading setup will filter out bad trades. It’s like having two friends telling you to go for it, and a third friend checking if your crush is really single. EMA Squeeze Play This tactic is for when the EMAs get super tight—often before a major breakout. Tight EMAs (think 8, 13, 21 all within a few pips of each other) indicate low volatility, kind of like the market is holding its breath. The EMA Squeeze Play is all about anticipating when that breath is going to be released. It’s risky, but it’s also a setup with major potential for profits when executed correctly. Take These Insights to the Bank (Literally) The Exponential Moving Average is a simple yet powerful tool—if you know how to use it the right way. Whether you’re working the EMA crossover game, mastering the fan technique, or using the EMA to anticipate volatility around news events, each strategy gives you a sharper edge in trading the EUR/JPY pair. Remember, the real trick isn’t just in knowing what EMA settings to use; it’s in understanding when and why they work, and having a sense of humor when they don’t. Ready to take your trading to the next level? Check out StarseedFX for the latest economic indicators, exclusive forex education, and community membership to stay ahead of the crowd. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[motriders]

Buy the Best Cycle Electric Motorbike Electrical Parts in the UK Today

Buy the Best Cycle Electric Motorbike Electrical Parts in the UK Today In case you're a motorbike rider in the UK, you know how fundamental your motorcycle's electrical system is to its overall show. Whether you're passing through London's bustling roads, cruising along the wonderful country ways, or causing a commotion in and out of town, your motorbike's electrical parts keep things moving along as expected. Furthermore, when those parts begin to fizzle, you're in for a harsh ride. That is the reason purchasing the best cycle electric motorbike electrical parts is significant. A strong electrical system is the core of your ride, and putting resources into quality parts is a distinct advantage.

Why You Need Top-Notch Motorbike Electrical Parts in the UK Motorbikes aren’t just about having a fast engine or a shiny paint job; the electrical parts are what make everything tick. Your ignition, lighting, battery charging system, and even your bike’s ability to start depend on the quality of these electrical components. If you’ve ever been stuck on the side of the road with a faulty electrical system, you know how frustrating it can be. And in the UK, where weather conditions can be unpredictable, keeping your motorbike’s electrical parts in top shape is essential. You need parts that can handle everything from torrential rain to freezing temperatures.

Purchasing the best cycle electric motorbike electrical parts will assist with keeping your bicycle running with practically no unforeseen breakdowns. Whether you're hoping to supplant a solitary part or do a full electrical update, getting quality items from believed providers in the UK will save you time, cash, and a great deal of headaches over the long haul.

What to Look for When Buying Motorbike Electrical Parts in the UK 1. Perfect Fit for Your Bike While looking for motorbike electrical parts in the UK, the primary thing you'll need to check is whether the part is viable with your motorcycle. Not all electrical components are universal—motorbikes come in all shapes, sizes, and models, so make sure the part you buy fits your specific motorbike. If you're unsure, there are plenty of UK-based online shops that let you filter parts by bike make and model, making it easier to find what you need.

2. Durability to Handle the UK Weather The climate in the UK is famous for being wet and eccentric. Your motorbike's electrical system needs to deal with dampness, stickiness, and temperature changes. Modest electrical parts may not confront the components, prompting erosion or disappointment. That is the explanation it justifies placing assets into magnificent cycle electric motorbike electrical parts that are expressly expected to endure through the extreme UK environmental circumstances. Look for parts that offer utilization resistance and persevering through durability.

3. Better Performance Means More Fun Faulty electrical components can lead to poor engine performance, flickering lights, or trouble starting your bike. By moving up to excellent cycle electric motorbike electrical parts, you'll see a major distinction in execution. Whether it's smoother begins, more responsive choke, or more brilliant lights, quality electrical parts assist your motorbike with running like a fantasy.

4. Don’t Break the Bank Fortunately, in the UK, you have lots of options. There’s no need to overpay for good-quality cycle electric motorbike electrical parts. Numerous web-based stores offer cutthroat costs, and you can habitually find cutoff points or pack deals accepting at least for now that you're buying various parts. Just guarantee you're not relinquishing quality at a humble expense — you want parts that will persevere, not ones that will leave you stranded.

Where to Buy Motorbike Electrical Parts in the UK There are heaps of spots to get the best cycle electric motorbike electrical parts in the UK, whether you like to shop on the web or head into a store.

1. Online Motorbike Shops: Assuming you're about comfort, online stores are your smartest option. UK-based retailers like Sports BikeShop or Motorcycle superstore have enormous determinations of electrical parts. You can look through your motorcycle's make and model, read client surveys, and have your parts conveyed directly to your entryway.

2. Local Motorcycle Shops: For the hands-on experience, head to your local motorcycle shop. Many UK stores stock a range of motorbike electrical parts and can offer expert advice. Plus, if you're in a rush to fix something, you can usually grab the part right away.

3. Dealerships: If you own a brand-specific motorbike, visiting an authorized dealership in the UK might be a good idea. They often carry genuine parts and can help with recommendations tailored to your bike.

Why Go for Cycle Electric Parts? So why pick cycle electric motorbike electrical parts specifically? These parts are intended for current motorbikes and are solid. They're many times more effective, more solid, and can further develop your motorbike's performance contrasted with less expensive, nonexclusive other options. At the point when you pick cycle electric motorbike electrical parts, you're making an interest in your bicycle's unwavering quality and life span — two things that are pivotal while riding on UK streets.

Conclusion Assuming that you're searching for the best cycle electric motorbike electrical parts in the UK, you're doing great. Whether you're fixing a little issue or doing a total update of your electrical system, excellent parts will have a gigantic effect you would say. Try not to agree to anything short of the best, and try to pick parts that are worked to deal with the special difficulties of the UK environment. Get some margin to search around, think about choices, and track down the right electrical parts for your motorbike. With the right parts, you'll be prepared to raise a ruckus around town with certainty, realizing your motorcycle is running at its ideal.

[scotianostra]

14th June 1946 John Logie Baird, inventor of the first television, died.

Much has been said about Baird, some claim that due to the fact his version of the Television did not get taken up that he is not actually the “real” inventor. However without Baird’s innovations Television might not have been taken up , or come about as it did.

  Even as a child, Baird—who was born in Helensburgh, Scotland—showed great aptitude for innovation. As a youngster, he facilitated easier communication with a few of his best friends by setting up a rudimentary telephone exchange from his bedroom that would allow him to quickly connect with his buddies.

  Baird used whatever items he could find to begin building a prototype for his mechanical television, including an old hatbox, some bicycle lights, a pair of scissors, darning needles, glue, and sealing wax.

The first public demonstrations were in Selfridges in 1925, The store sent out a circular, which stated:

Selfridge’s

Present the First Public Demonstration of Television

In the Electrical Section (First Floor)

Television is to light what telephony is to sound-

It means the INSTANTANEOUS transmission of a picture, so the observer at the “receiving” end can see, to all intents and purposes, what is a cinematographic view of what is happening at the “sending” end.

Over the next several years, Baird continued to make improvements to his tele visor, and kept increasing the distance that it could transmit content.

In 1927, he managed to transmit an image a total of 438 miles between London and Glasgow.

  On February 9, 1928, his Baird Television Development Company produced the first transatlantic television broadcast, from London to New York. Even with all those firsts, Baird kept pushing for more. On August 10, 1928, he demonstrated the first 3D television, which he called “stereovision.” “By applying the stereoscope principle to television, it has now become possible to transmit television images with all the appearance of depth and solidity; and, by a further combination of colored television with stereoscopic television, the complete illusion of images in natural colors, and with depth and solidity becomes possible,” wrote the Radio Times in November of 1928. “All this has been recently demonstrated in the Baird Laboratories.” He dreamed of big-screen TVs with high-definition pictures.

Baird wanted to televise ‘live’ sport in cinemas, and in 1931, he invented a TV camera for ‘outside broadcasts’.

John Logie Baird died on this at Bexhill-on-Sea, East Sussex in 1946 aged 57.

[greetings-inferiors]

In London we have ‘Boris bikes’ that are just electric bikes you can rent and ride around.

In small university towns bicycles rein supreme. Especially Cambridge, every single building has tons of bicycles littered outside because EVERYONE rides a bike EVERYWHERE. They’re all shitty bikes too so no one steals them lmao

Oh I wish I could’ve gone </3

please god above can someone explain to me why we're still working on self driving cars when trains exist

[freedformwriter]

28 October

I merge my bicycle onto the promenade only to quickly draw up. A small audience is assembled on the bridge with the red ivy that marks the start of the seaside bit of my cycle. It spans a deep car track cut into the cliffs. Below, a band is set up on the boat launch directly in front of the official-font legend ‘Never Stop Dancing’. Four shaggy-haired men hold their guitars in static pretend postures as cameras fuss about them. Behind them, a sky of tiny clouds shifts. They’re from London, two friends tell me, we looked them up. They are impressed. Down from Londons are clearly looked upon more favourably when they come to make a music video.

This is my new thing when I’m cat sitting in Margate: a midday constitutional along the old Victorian promenade that runs the length of the clifftops of Cliftonville. I’m sure the posh nineteenth-century women on health cures once did this stretch in brisk strides while battling a wind-buffeted parasol. But I don’t go for walks anymore, and you can see more by cycle anyway. The western boundary is the Turner Contemporary and the downhill swoop into the Old Town; the eastern boundary, a mite more arbitrary, is the broken sign for the jet ski rentals/café on the far side of the Tidal Pool. I take in the circuit of the disused Lido and the taped off bandstand. Only the plasticated playground is crowded. But many solitary sitters have come out for a lunch break in the semi-sunshine. I can’t see anyone swimming in the Tidal Pool but spot a pale feminine thigh through the window of the adjacent horsebox sauna.

Circuit complete, I return to the red ivy bridge. The band promptly launches into a song. A real one. As might be expected from the presence of one acoustic guitar, two electric guitars, and a bass, it’s got that dreamy, neo-shoegaze, wall of sound vibe. The notes echo off the cliffs as two people with cameras weave about the quintet. The singer tilts his head up, his quietly ecstatic lyrics about the sun bursting through the clouds and the intoxicating quality of music.At this distance, and with their hair growth, it’s hard to age them, but they are certainly young enough to recycle nineties fashions.  The lead guitarist with his half-undone oversized overalls, tan Timberland boots, and a slouchy beanie covering his long hair could be an extra in Clueless.

Pausing pedestrians on the clifftop and the beach walk make an impromptu two-tier audience of dog walkers and strays. I hear someone crack a tin open and look over to see a woman with ultra straight blonde hair and clumpy black lashes filming the band with her phone and smiling between sips. I stop scrutinising the band and watch the gull circling above the low tide while imagining the music is a personal soundtrack for this moment in my life, ‘the heroine looking out to sea’. The song dissolves back into the rock. Free concert, notes the filming woman approvingly. Up close, her lids shine a glittery purple. We agree it’s not a bad little extra. Not bad at all.

See you later, she calls as I cycle off. Like we might do this again tomorrow.

[skamotors]

Unlock Smooth Rides with Motorcycle Repair in London

The Joy of a Smooth Ride

There's nothing very like the opportunity of riding through London's bustling roads on a finely tuned motorcycle. Each bit of the choke and corner turn is an exhilarating encounter. In any case, even the best machines are given to mileage. At the point when your bicycle doesn't run as it ought to, it can transform rousing rides into frustrating endeavors. That is where dependable Motorcycle Repair in London steps in to supplant your excursion.

Common Issues that Disrupt Motorcycle Performance

Motorcycles, similar to some other mechanical marvel, are vulnerable to normal issues after some time. Sputtering engines, brake disappointments, and inconsistent choke reactions frequently plague even the most all around maintained machines. The city's variable environment can cause consumption and electrical glitches, while weighty metropolitan commuting speeds up tire wear. Whether it's a slipping grasp or a broke exhaust, ignoring these signs can leave you abandoned at the absolute worst second.

Benefits of Professional Motorcycle Repair in London

Expert repair services are more than just quick fixes—they are an investment in safety and longevity. A seasoned technician will diagnose underlying issues that may escape the average rider’s notice. From precision-tuning the carburetor to aligning the wheels, every repair enhances performance. In London's steadily changing rush hour gridlock designs, a very much maintained motorcycle isn't simply helpful — it's fundamental. With proficient Motorcycle Repair in London, riders benefit from protection care, ensuring that minor issues don't grow into significant breakdowns.

Choosing the Right Repair Service for Your Bike

Not all carports are made equivalent. Finding a solid repair shop in London requires in excess of a speedy pursuit. Search for administrations with straightforward pricing, confirmed mechanics, and heavenly client audits. A decent repair shop will likewise stock credible extra parts, ensuring your bicycle remains roadworthy. Numerous London-based repair places offer custom-made maintenance bundles for different motorcycle models, from exemplary cruisers to present-day sportbikes. A believed specialist co-op turns into your accomplice in keeping your two-wheeled friend street prepared all year.

Conclusion

Riding in London demands a bike that performs flawlessly, mile after mile. With professional Motorcycle Repair in London, you can enjoy uninterrupted journeys through the heart of the city and beyond. Stay ahead of mechanical troubles by scheduling regular maintenance and addressing issues promptly. After all, the road is calling—don’t let mechanical snags keep you from answering.

[kaurgill]

1.Hilton London Bankside

Energy Conservation :Hilton London Bankside uses energy-efficient lighting systems and automated energy management systems to reduce overall energy consumption.

Waste Transformation :The hotel has an on-site waste transformation system that converts food waste into compost, reducing landfill contributions and supporting local green spaces.

Hazardous Substances Management :Hilton London Bankside adheres to strict guidelines for hazardous substances, ensuring proper disposal and minimal environmental impact.

Sustainable Transport :The hotel promotes the use of sustainable transport by providing guests with electric vehicle charging stations and bike rental services.

Market Factors :Hilton London Bankside leverages its sustainable practices as a key differentiator in the competitive hotel market, appealing to eco-conscious travelers and setting industry standards.

2.Eco Lux Hotel

Energy efficiency: Implement solutions that reduce energy consumption and take advantage of natural resources; technologies such as heat pumps for air conditioning and DHW, or photovoltaic panels for electricity generation, which are achieved thanks to the use of renewable energies such as solar or aerothermal energy.

Waste Transformation: This involves strategies like recycling, composting, and upcycling to minimize waste generation and maximize resource efficiency.

Hazardous Substances Management: Ensuring proper handling, storage, and disposal of hazardous materials to mitigate environmental and health risks.

Sustainable Transport: Encouraging guests and staff to use eco-friendly transport options such as electric vehicles, bicycles, or public transit, reducing carbon emissions.

Market Factors: Adapting to market trends and consumer demand for sustainable practices, such as sourcing locally produced goods, supporting fair trade, and minimizing environmental impact throughout operations.

3.Fairmont Hotel & Resort

Energy Conservation: Fairmont implements energy-efficient practices across its properties, including LED lighting and HVAC systems. Waste Transformation: They focus on reducing waste through recycling programs and composting initiatives. Hazardous Substances Management: Fairmont ensures proper disposal and management of hazardous materials to minimize environmental impact. Sustainable Transport: They offer electric vehicle charging stations and promote alternative transportation options. Market Factors: Fairmont integrates sustainability into its brand identity, attracting eco-conscious travelers.

4.Kimpton Hotel & Restaurant

Energy Conservation: Kimpton uses energy-saving technologies and practices, such as smart thermostats and energy-efficient appliances. Waste Transformation: They prioritize waste reduction through recycling programs and partnerships with local composting facilities. Hazardous Substances Management: Kimpton follows strict protocols for handling and disposing of hazardous substances to protect the environment. Sustainable Transport: They encourage guests to use bicycles and public transportation, and some locations offer hybrid vehicle rentals. Market Factors: Kimpton's sustainability efforts resonate with guests seeking environmentally friendly accommodations.

5.Hotel Brooklyn Bridge

Energy Conservation: 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge utilizes energy-efficient lighting and HVAC systems throughout the property.

Waste Transformation: They implement extensive recycling programs and utilize composting to minimize waste.

Hazardous Substances Management: The hotel strictly manages and disposes of hazardous materials to prevent environmental harm.

Sustainable Transport: They offer guests bicycles for local travel and have electric vehicle charging stations onsite.

Market Factors: 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge emphasizes sustainability in its branding, appealing to environmentally conscious travelers.

[jrnerad]

Special Report: Should U.S. Adopt European Transport Model?

Many think that we in America should change the way we get around every day, increasing our use of public transportation, electric cars and commuting by bicycle much as they do in Europe. But is that a practical solution for the average American? To find out, Host Jack Nerad traveled to two major European capitals — London and Copenhagen — to find out how Europeans get to work, to the grocery…